Have a Little Faith
by KayTeeBeth
Summary: Kyle is sick of religion and all the crap it brings, so he consults three very wise sources to come to a conclusion about his faith. Oneshot I threw together in boredom.


Author's Note: So I decided to write a little one-shot while I try to sort out my other stories

**Author's Note: **So I decided to write a little one-shot while I try to sort out my other stories. So here this goes, and let me know what you think! Reviews (NOT flames) are greatly appreciated.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own South Park, or any of the characters, even though they are used in my story.

**Have a Little Faith**

What is religion?

Well, once I looked up the word in a dictionary. The entry said that religion was "a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs." It seemed funny to me that a person's set of beliefs could cause so much controversy, tension and violence. People often fought wars based on religion, but that sort of contradicts what religion is. They may all be different, but one thing they have in common is teaching us to be a good person. Well, except Satanism. But generally, religions teach us similar moral standards. So why is it that when we're all being told to be tolerate, we fight over the "right set of beliefs"?

I was used to crap based on religion, mostly from the fat ass, so I wasn't sure why it drove me to the South Park Synagogue this time. For some reason, that one little comment made me doubt everything I knew, everything I was taught, and everything that is or ever was good in this world.

We were all at Stan's, and it was a simple, average Wednesday afternoon. School had gone surprisingly well, and Cartman was being uncharacteristically well-behaved. I couldn't help but wonder what he wanted.

It was during the commercials of Terrance and Phillip that it happened.

"Don't forget to tune into HBC on Monday for a spiritual and enlightening Billy Graham special," The announcer on the TV announced.

"Oh Jesus, Monday is when they air the new Terrance and Phillips!" I exclaimed. "Honestly, these stupid specials always screw up the TV watching schedule."

"You just don't like it because he found the way of Christ, and sees the truth about the Jews!" Cartman shot at me.

"What the hell are you talking about? He doesn't want to convert the Jewish people!"

"Psh, puh-lease! He thinks that the Jews have complete control over the media, and I quote, 'This stranglehold has got to be broken or the country's going down the drain'," Cartman argued.

"Yeah, but he apologized!" I had no idea why I was sticking up for him now.

"And he was a good person for doing it," Cartman agreed. "But he was just saying that. He hates your guts."

I glared at the fat ass. He didn't know what he was talking about. To be fair, neither did I, but I knew more that the anti-Semitic, idiotic fat fuck.

He didn't stop there, though. "I don't blame him for hating Jews though. They're basically the opposite of what he's trying to teach."

"Oh, and what are you then, his devoted follower?"

Cartman ignored me and continued. "I mean, the world would be so much better without the Jews. All they do is cause trouble."

"Shut the hell up, fat ass," I hissed, starting to get pissed off.

"...and heaven knows that's the last thing we need. But the Jews don't even believe in heaven!" Cartman persisted, talking through me.

"We do so, retard!" I retorted. I didn't know why I was still bothering. He seemed to have forgotten my existence and was having the time of his life bashing my people.

"... just wants to show people like you the error of their ways..."

"CARTMAN!" I screamed.

He finally shut up and looked at me, innocently as ever. "Well, what is it? Did I say something to upset you?"

What the fuck was this kid playing at? He doesn't say anything disrespectful all day, but decides to ruin my afternoon. "You are such a retarded, dumbass, shithead!"

"Kyle, temper, temper."

I just glared back at him. Then he said it.

"Kyle, Judaism doesn't mean shit. It may have been all the rage two thousand years ago, but now it's just improper, and totally uncool."

Without a single word, I stood up and left. I heard a few calls from Stan's living room:

"Dude, don't listen to him, he's just an asshole!"

"Run away if you will, Kyle. But you can't hide from the truth!"

"Kyle! You're gonna miss the rest of Terrance and Phillip!"

But I ignored them all. I didn't need this shit. It didn't matter that I didn't really follow my religion. The simple fact that my parents were Jewish had doomed me. I could have completely renounced my faith, but that wouldn't make a difference. It would have just been easier if I was born into a Christian family. Unfortunately for me, things didn't work like that.

I wasn't entirely sure why, but I had no idea what to think, and I couldn't help taking what Cartman said personally. I knew he was just an asshole, and I shouldn't care what he thought, but I couldn't help it. I was self conscious, and I didn't like it when people didn't like me. Why couldn't I be like Stan, who didn't give a crap what anyone said, and shook off any criticism and offensive remarks? Or Kenny, who was too focused on chicks to even notice if anyone made fun of him? Or, I hated myself for thinking it, even Cartman who was too busy making the remarks to even know anyone was saying anything about him?

As I walked along the sidewalk, I kicked a stray pebble. I didn't have to be home for another hour and half, and I wasn't planning on going home anytime before then. I needed some alone time. I needed time to think.

The first place I went to was the South Park Synagogue. A few people were in there, praying, but it was mostly empty. I didn't know why I was here, or what I was expecting, but this is where I came.

I sat awkwardly, a little unsure of what to do. Did I pray? I didn't exactly come here often. Fortunately, I was interrupted by the Rabbi.

"Hello little boy. Is something wrong?"

Apparently it showed. I sighed. I was oddly calm, and I knew I really should have been fuming. "I'm just having some..." What was the best word? "Doubts."

The rabbi nodded, concerned. "I see. Well, what seems to be troubling you, my child?" He seemed genuinely interested, and I felt I could open up. He was here for guidance, wasn't he?

"Well I have this one-" I stopped abruptly. What was Cartman? My friend? Chef once said that Cartman was our friend, whether we liked him or not. We definitely didn't like him. "Well, for lack of a better word, I have this one friend." I paused. It felt immensely strange calling Cartman my friend. "Well, he's extremely anti-Semitic, and that's putting it lightly."

The Rabbi nodded again, but didn't say anything. He sensed I wasn't done and prompted me to continue.

"Well, of course I stick up for myself, but that just seems to encourage him to continue. It usually bothers me more than it should, but for some reason today it got me even more than normal," I explained.

The Rabbi seemed to consider this for a moment. It almost seemed like he was considering me. "Why do you say it bothers you more than it should?"

I wasn't sure what to say to that. I wasn't about to tell him that I wasn't particularly religious anyway. "You see, my friend," that word again, "isn't just anti-Semitic. It's more than that. He hates everyone, so why should I get so offended? He's such a jerk I shouldn't care about anything he says. And we all rip on each other anyway, but that's just friendly fun. His comments go beyond that, though."

"It's OK to get offended by racial slurs or anti-Semitic remarks, even if you aren't all too supportive of it." At this point he winked. "No matter what, it's still your culture and who you are." This guy was good.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm too defensive. If this guy puts something down, I'll defend it even if I don't really agree with it, or if it has nothing to do with me," I stated, more to myself than the Rabbi

"Then you're a good person. You can't let this friend of yours get to you. Don't let what he says challenge your beliefs," the Rabbi advised.

"Thanks." But it wasn't that simple. You couldn't not let Cartman get to you, he just did. And as far as challenging my beliefs went, I was here trying to figure out what my beliefs are. But rather than explaining any of this, I kept it to myself. I had a feeling the Rabbi had done all he could, and this was something I needed to figure out myself.

"I hope you sort out your doubts."

"I'll try. Thanks again."

I rose and left. I didn't necessarily want to convert, because that wouldn't solve anything. Believe me, I've considered it, but I knew it wouldn't help at all. The whole religion thing in general threw me off. I doubted the existence of the supernatural, and it seemed almost ridiculous to worship uncertainties. I wouldn't go so far as to call myself atheist, but by logic, religious truth was far from possible.

If there really was a God, great. It would certainly add a lot more purpose to existence. I was far from willing to waste my life worshiping Him though. Who knew, maybe it's even a Her? I also wasn't about to go on a desperate quest to find out what there was, if anything. It would be nice if whatever was out there made itself a little more known. Honestly, what kind of sick God could come up with Eric Cartman?

I felt the need to go to the church. Already having established that I wasn't converting, I was simply going there for curiosity's sake.

I was brought into the office to talk to the priest. He was behind a desk and surveyed me. "So, what brings you here, little boy."

I had been called little boy twice over the course of the last half hour. "Well, I've been thinking about things, and I'm a little unsure of what to think."

"Wait a second, aren't you that little Jewish boy?"

Now I was the little Jewish boy. I was beginning to regret coming here. "Yes, I am. That's why I'm here. I'm having a difficult patch."

"So you came to seek guidance from the Lord?" the Father asked expectantly.

"Well, kind of." I wasn't going to explain my whole "friend" situation again. I was pretty close to just leaving and giving up on this whole "spiritual quest" thing. It was proving to be more trouble than it was worth.

The priest nodded and began giving me his two cents. I didn't pay all that much attention to whatever the priest said next, but it was something about the ways of Jesus, and how he can support us through the roughest of times and all that stuff.

"Well, thanks anyways Father, but I'm not going to convert. Thanks for your help though." I walked out of the church and decided that I would just give up now and go home. Was there really anywhere else to go and seek guidance? I wondered vaguely if South Park had a mosque. Probably not.

"Oh good Kyle, you're home," mom said in a way of greeting. "You're little friend Stan called a few times, and it sounded pretty urgent, is everything alright?"

Stan called? More than once? I hadn't been gone that long. "Yeah mom, everything's fine."

I went up to my room without another word. I knew that I would go back to school tomorrow, and things would go back to normal. Cartman would comment on my running away, I would argue back at him and then we would all get together after school as if none of this ever happened. Or maybe we would go to acting as if this never happened in the first place. Either way, this last hour had been a waste of my time.

"Kyle, come for supper time," Ike babbled as he walked into my room.

"Hey Ike. Tell mom and dad I'm not hungry."

Ike just looked at me. "Kay-al, what's wrong?" Well, of course Ike knew something was wrong.

"Nothing Ike, I'm just a little..." I could lie to my little brother. "Well, actually, I'm having issues with religion."

Ike nodded at me. Had the whole town turned into nodding bobble heads? "Go on."

I eyed him a little suspiciously. Ike was acting like he knew what he was doing. "Ike, how much do you know about our religion?" I asked. If I was going to tell him my problems, I wanted to make sure he would understand.

"Kay-al, are you having religious problems?" Ike asked back. Christ this kid was good! Was I really that easy to read?

"Well yeah. Ike, you know that people don't really... like Jewish people, right."

"Yeah. Anti-Semitism."

I obviously didn't know my three year old brother very well. When did he learn all this? "Yeah. Ike, you don't have to deal with it so much right now, but when you get older, you're going to get a lot of crap."

He blinked at me with his beady little eyes. "Kay-al, people will say what they want, but what really matters is what you think." It was similar to what the Rabbi said.

"Thanks Ike, but I'm also having trouble with what I believe in."

"That's easy," Ike stated simply.

I just gawked at him. How could it be easy? "What do you mean, Ike?"

"It's not so much what you believe, but what kind of person you are." He had something there. "If you don't accept one particular religion, that's OK, as long as you're a good person."

And he was right. The retarded thing was, I already knew that. It didn't really clear everything up, but a little uncertainty was always good. I stared at Ike and he looked a little worried. "Thanks Ike. Tell mom and dad I'll be right down."

XXXXXXXXXXX

I yawned widely. I had been up at 2:00 in the morning, still contemplating everything that happened yesterday. I still didn't know if there was a God, if I believed there was a God, or if I should even care, but I had come to a few conclusions. Ike was right. I knew I was a good person, I at least made an effort. That had to count for something. I also figured that I was nine. I didn't need to decide right now what I thought was right and what was the universal truth and all that. I had all my life to figure that out.

But the most important thing I realized was that Cartman was just a prick. He could make fun of me all he wanted, but I knew that I was the bigger person, and that was all that mattered.

"Dude, what happened yesterday?" Stan asked upon seeing me this morning. "I tried calling you, but your mom said you weren't home."

I smiled at my friend. "I just had to do some thinking."

"Hey there, Jew-face!"

"Shut up Cartman," I replied calmly. I would still get defensive, if only for the sake of normalcy. But I had realized something, and I couldn't help but feel satisfied.

I also couldn't help but feel a little pissed off about the pointlessness of the whole thing.

**Author's Note: **Oh yes, it is a little confusing and cliché and corny, but I felt the urge to write it. Reviews make me a Happy Panda, so let me know what you thought!


End file.
